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Poetry 11

Another poem.

The Trend

I stood upon the tightrope
and looked to either side.
'Twas an amateur's decision,
on the edge of the divide.

To my right, the crowd awaited
with a familial embrace;
thousands of Them chanting,
all with but one face.

To my left, 'twas only emptiness,
a void as far as I could see.
It offered naught but loneliness;
a sailor's life, at sea.

Just then, the rope began to sway
and I quickly turned to find
another balancing trapezist
with an inconclusive mind.

We shared silence, for a time,
and then we chose our fate.
To the murky depths, we leapt;
and now, for Them, we wait.

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Comments

Poetry means something different for everyone... Sometimes I even write stuff that ends up being the complete opposite of what I had in mind when I started.

Oh. I get it. Hm. I thought of the "monsters" in The Village when I read "Them." Too dramatic...

I'm glad you two like it.

I was trying to convey the point that trends can change, with the final stanza. The earlier reference to Them establishes all of the people on the "popular bandwagon" as a group with a single identity... In the end, the two indecisive folks jump to the opposite side, and wait for "Them" (the same people from before).

In other words, all the people who took the popular route are going to end up switching sides eventually, anyways.

See? Now *your* poems I like. I'm not a complete poetry hater.

Nice touch in the fourth stanza. Your poem doesn't limit to one side or the other, but a surprising, third option.

The "Them" reference in the third option of "choos[ing] our fate" seems a bit shadowy; however, the change from "I" to "we" does bode well for the two taking control of their fates.

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